Chapter 708: Cold-blooded
The development of human history has spurred the advancement of weapons and equipment. The appearance of stone spears and axes gave humanity, for the first time, the basic ability to truly face dangerous wild beasts, and also allowed humanity to stand out from the animal kingdom.
Following this was the emergence of bronze smelting technology, which gave human civilization a more efficient way to kill. The sharp blade broke free from nature’s constraints on weapons, and human warfare entered a broader domain for the first time.
With the development of the iron industry in civilizations like Han China and Rome, agricultural nations gained an overwhelming advantage over the surrounding barbaric pastoral civilizations. And so, these agricultural civilizations began to launch expeditions, wiping out nations and peoples. War became more bloody and cruel.
After the appearance of the stirrup, iron-smelting technology began to spread and become common among nomadic peoples. And so, for nearly a thousand years, the nomadic peoples, due to their physical strength and skill in riding and archery, gained a long-lasting suppressive advantage over the agricultural peoples. The mobility of warfare reached its peak in the age of cold weapons with the development of cavalry.
Then, firearms finally appeared. The era of humans relying on physical strength and power to clash officially ended. Ranged weapons like the bow and arrow were finally eliminated, and cavalry also began to decline, becoming a supporting role in warfare. Automatic weapons began to appear. Humans could now slaughter their own kind with unprecedented efficiency, to kill the enemy more and more splendidly in the name of their own great cause.
The reason firearms were able to gradually replace other weapons and become the first choice in human warfare is because in the face of this weapon, all are equal. Unlike a bow and arrow, where the arrow shot by a woman is ultimately a third less powerful than the arrow shot by a man, the bullet fired from a machine gun held by a woman is not one bit weaker than the ammunition fired by a man. Therefore, hot weapons have compressed the physical gap between soldiers to a minimum, allowing commanders to focus more on inspiring the morale and will of their own army.
To put it simply, in the age of hot weapons, as long as an army dares to fight and firmly believes that killing the enemy is the right choice, then the combat effectiveness of this army can be guaranteed.
For example, right now, a Tiger tank was crushing the edge of a foxhole. The hull-mounted machine gun in front was fiercely spitting its tongue of fire, turning group after group of Soviet Red Army soldiers into sieves. The one firing the gun was a beautiful girl. Not a trace of pity could be seen in her cold eyes. The bullets she fired were precise and deadly.
From being unable to pull the trigger upon seeing a person, to now being able to mow down lives on the other side with a machine gun as if cutting wheat. This was a kind of progress, a kind of adaptation. War makes people lose their conscience, despise life, and ultimately turn into a cold-blooded killer.
Alice was not just endlessly pulling the trigger, emptying the bullets in the machine gun. She calmly aimed, then pulled the trigger, firing a burst of a few rounds, and then calmly aimed at the next target. Every time she fired, she could guarantee a hit. Sometimes, one burst could even kill a dozen enemy soldiers.
If it weren’t for the deafening noise of the machine, if it weren’t for the fact that she would turn off her throat microphone when she was attacking, then someone would have heard her humming a song softly as she pulled the trigger, a folk song from her own hometown, though the lyrics were a bit indecent.
She had changed the lyrics and was humming softly, “The great Führer flew across the sky, but I was punished for not doing my duty. Thrown onto the battlefield to suffer hunger and thirst, to make up for my mistakes with the number of people I kill! Hehehe, I’ll screw over this bunch of idiots with my machine gun, these idiots are so damn weak… Hehehe, I’ll keep firing my machine gun, killing people from dawn till dusk… Hehehe, Rein and I have a promise, to hold our own destiny in our own hands!”
With her slightly off-key singing, the machine gun roared, spitting out bullet after bullet. Through the sight, one could clearly see the tracer rounds flying into the bodies of the Red Army soldiers opposite. One shot blew off his arm, another blew off his head. Then Alice adjusted the position of the muzzle again and shot another person through the stomach with a bullet. The intestines that were torn out piled up on the ground, looking somewhat out of place with the white snow around them.
Clang! A bullet fired from an anti-tank rifle struck the frontal armor of the Tiger tank, leaving a shallow black pit in the white camouflage paint. The anti-tank weapons equipped by the Soviet Red Army infantry were not numerous to begin with (related to their vast numbers being spread thin), and their performance was really not to be complimented.
For example, this anti-tank rifle had a very astonishing recoil, which was very damaging to the shooter. In most cases, it was impossible to fire continuously. And its anti-tank capability was very limited. It was acceptable for dealing with targets like armored cars, but it was a bit out of its league against a tank of the Tiger’s level.
Theoretically, this weapon should have been aimed at the tank’s side or rear, but facing dozens of tanks accompanied by a grenadier attack, the Soviet infantry, who were not very experienced in anti-tank warfare, could only use the method of direct frontal fire to bolster their own courage. In fact, the range of individual anti-tank weapons was very short, and their actual combat performance could only be improved by the quality of the soldiers.
Alice’s machine gun attack was very accurate, so the Soviet Red Army anti-tank guns in front could not get close to her tank. They could only open fire from a long distance. The result was that these attacks could only leave a small mark on the Tiger tank’s thick frontal armor and could not play their intended role at all.
Behind the rolling road wheels of the Tiger tank, a German grenadier pulled the pin on a hand grenade in his hand and then threw the smoking grenade into a nearby trench. With a boom, the entire trench was filled with flying shrapnel, and many of the Soviet soldiers who were squatting inside, not daring to raise their heads, were thus sent to heaven.
Before the smoke from the explosion had dissipated, this German grenadier and his comrades behind him jumped into the trench together. They fired a volley with the G43 semi-automatic rifles in their hands. The crisp sound of gunshots rang out one after another. Not far away, the retreating Soviet infantry were shot in the back and fell in the trench in bizarre postures.
“Attack! Attack! After them!” a veteran grenadier shouted, changing the magazine of his MP-44 assault rifle. Behind him, a German new recruit with a rifle charged up. He had not run more than a few steps before he stepped on an anti-personnel mine in the Soviet position. In an instant, his entire person was engulfed in the flames of the explosion.
“Oh God! Medic! Medic! Someone’s wounded!” the veteran shouted in terror, watching the mine explode not far away, watching the soldier being swallowed by the blast wave. He then ran towards the direction of the explosion. In the smoke- and dust-filled circle of the explosion, a German soldier, his face covered in blood, was actually still standing.
“Sir! I… I think, I stepped on… a mine…” the wounded soldier, his face covered in blood, said, turning his head and speaking in a weak and halting tone. One of his legs had been blown off by the mine, but miraculously, his body had no other serious injuries.
The number of mines produced by the Soviet Union was huge, but the corresponding quality was not guaranteed. A large number of small workshops had participated in the production of this heavily consumed item, the mine. Although this had allowed the Red Army to use more than several hundred thousand new replacement mines, it had also correspondingly lowered the quality requirements for these mines.
It often happened that a German soldier would step on a mine, but it would not detonate. There were also records of soldiers being hit by a mine but only suffering minor injuries because the shrapnel was not evenly distributed. This time, it was clear that the shrapnel had still not scattered as designed to kill the target, but had instead shattered into several pieces without achieving its intended effect.
“Lie down, kid! You’re wounded! We’ve already called a medic for you! They’ll be here soon! Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon!” The veteran walked to the side of the wounded soldier and, supporting his arm, tried to help him sit down by the side of the trench and lean against the wall. But as soon as his hand reached under the wounded soldier’s armpit, he felt a sticky liquid.
This wounded soldier was more seriously injured than he appeared on the surface. Blood was dripping down his arm to the ground. Because his tactical vest was still intact, it was impossible to see where else he was more seriously injured. The veteran had no choice but to grit his teeth and help him sit down, then anxiously shouted, “Medic! Someone’s wounded here!”
The Tiger tank had already covered the other infantry and had advanced at least 50 meters past the trench. The “corpse” of a Soviet soldier not far away suddenly moved. This Soviet Red Army soldier, who had been playing dead, crawled up and tried to run to the rear, but he had not noticed a German veteran not far behind him who was watching his wounded comrade.
The veteran raised his MP-44 assault rifle, roughly aimed at the Soviet Red Army soldier’s back with his eyes, and pulled the trigger. “Rat-tat!” After a short burst, a wisp of white smoke rose from the Soviet soldier’s body. He then made a surrendering gesture with both hands and pitched forward, finally falling to the ground, twitching once, and then stopping all movement.
At this moment, a German medic, holding his helmet, jumped into this trench. He was carrying a heavy medical backpack and had another medical pouch on his chest, both of which were painted with a red cross. From the clumsy way he jumped into the trench, one could tell that the Soviet return fire outside was actually also very fierce.
“Where’s the wounded man?” the medic shouted as soon as he had tumbled into the trench. He then adjusted his position, looked up, and only then discovered that there were only two German soldiers in the trench, and a floor of corpses.
He gave an embarrassed smile, then walked crouched over to the wounded German soldier, squatted down, took out a pair of scissors from his backpack, skillfully closed his backpack, and then carefully examined the wounded German soldier sitting on the ground. As he reached out to begin treatment, he reminded the German veteran beside him, “If you don’t mind, could you watch my back? I don’t want to die yet!”
Published: 2025-09-20T03:11:33.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-03-03T16:47:04.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c708-cold-139308006
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